Planes That Pass In The Night
by Basmathgirl
Summary: When Kilgrave accidentally encounters the Doctor Donna, he is more than surprised by the effect she has.
1. Chapter 1

**Prompt:** what do you think would happen if metacrisis!Donna met up with him?  
 **Disclaimer:** I don't even own the Netflix account that allowed me to watch Jessica Jones in the first place.  
 **A/N:** In answer to a post on tumblr, (and egged on by **develish1** ) I wrote **beachy_geek** a little something featuring metacrisis!Donna and Kilgrave.

* * *

 **Planes That Pass In The Night**

.

It was on the main concourse of an international airport that he first saw her. She swanned across to an airline representative, mumbled a few words, and was then shown immediately every type of deference it was possible to show. This intrigued him. Normally that was his prerogative. So he followed her, shooing away every single annoying fly that got in his way. They were of no importance to him, and he had no need to hide his contempt of these ordinary humans.

There was nothing beyond the ordinary in this human female, Kilgrave noted to himself, as he walked in her wake. She wasn't conventionally beautiful, her ginger hair had long since stopped being fashionable, and her style of dress wasn't intended to attract sexual interest. But her stance was something else entirely. It displayed an attitude he was used to exhibiting himself. There was power and assurance in every step that she took.

As he stood watching her make a determined path through the throng, she suddenly stopped, sniffed the air, and turned her head to look directly at him. It was as though she had looked directly into his soul for one split second. The next second, she looked away and continued on her merry way; sweeping effortlessly through the crowds of people.

This was unusual, and he liked it.

Eager to find out more, since he had nothing better to do that day, Kilgrave continued to follow her. When it looked as though she was about to leave the airport building, he demanded 'Stop!' of her, but she carried on walking away.

Confused, he quickened his pace. Perhaps she was too far away to be influenced by him. Rare, but it could happen. Soon he was only about eight steps away from her and those exit doors were ever closer. 'Stop!' he ordered her again. 'Turn and face me.'

But instead of her doing that, she glided through the now open doors and completely ignored him. Dumbfounded, he ran out to where she stood on the pavement, seeking something. As he reached her, a large black car swept up by her side. It was only then, once he was within easy speaking distance, did she deign to glance properly at him.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked without displaying a great deal of interest. "You have a question for me."

"Who are you?" he openly wondered.

"Just someone passing through," she enigmatically replied, and climbed into the waiting car.

So of course he grabbed hold of the door handle and mentally ordered the driver to reveal some information instead.

"This is Donna Noble, head of the Noble Intergalactic Foundation."

That slightly peeved her, so she placed a hand on top of Kilgrave's in a veiled threat. "Ah, I see you prefer to be naughty, Mr Kilgrave," she calmly informed him. "Start the car, please," she then requested from the driver, and removed Kilgrave's hand from the handle. "As for you, Kevin, I can see I'm going to have to be careful. Goodbye."

He was so shocked; he let her get away with manhandling him. But how?! How did she know his name? And more importantly, how had she wrestled control of her driver away from him? This was unprecedented.

The car swiftly driving away synchronised with the first pangs of love within his chest. She may not know it yet, but she would become his, if it took everything he got. Now to plan it all, he decided as a warm excitement filled his body.

Smiling broadly, and thus frightening the nearest people to him, Kilgrave commanded that the driver of the nearest fancy car drove him home.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** originally (and egged on by **develish1** ) I wrote **beachy_geek** a little something featuring metacrisis!Donna and Kilgrave. My muse decided to add to it

* * *

 **Part 2**

.

It was snowing outside, and the world was full of festive cheer, but for some reason Kilgrave was not enjoying the glass of whiskey he supped. The television was adorned with happy people in happy families being happy together.

What a sickening word 'happy' is.

Christmas for him had long lost its gloss veneer. Painful memories tried to push their way to the front of his mind, so he forced himself to dwell on the suffering he had caused his parents the last time he had seen them. They had deserved it, he decided, taking another sip of the amber nectar.

The single malt whisky still in his crystal glass glistened within his hand. Warming light from a log burning fire added to the ambience, and he found himself fascinated by the coppery tones that danced between his fingers.

Just like her hair had done.

The thought brought him up short. Why was he thinking of her, he chastised himself? He didn't need her or her mystery. Never in a million years.

As he dismissed her from his mind, the huge television on the wall grabbed his attention. Because on the screen, in close up and three feet high, was her face. Now on automatic pilot, he picked up the tv remote control and loudened the television to find out why she was there.

"And tell me, Donna Noble, why are you in New York again?" the interviewer cajoled.

That smug little smile was back on her lips; the one he always yearned to wipe off in his daydreams. He didn't care if it was by hurting her, causing her fear, or just by using his own lips upon hers. He wanted it gone.

"Just crossing some 'T's and dotting some 'I's," Donna enigmatically answered. "A difficult task needed completing."

"Will there be a special man by your side as you do this?" the interviewer pushed to know.

There was the faintest hesitation on Donna's face. Kilgrave quickly paused the image and replayed the interview. Yes, a definite pause. He had an 'in'. Finally, he had been given a hint, and his mood brightened considerably. "Do tell us, Donna," he said out loud, revelling in rolling her name over his tongue.

Donna on the screen looked directly into the camera to say, "There is no man on Earth who interests me enough; but I am looking."

A loud insult exploded from his mouth as rage momentarily flooded him.

Kilgrave turned the image off after that. The rest of the interviewer fawning over some other celebrity did not interested him. Instead, he wanted to know more about Donna Noble's visit. Could he flatter himself and think she was going to seek him out? Perhaps he should. The message seemed to be directed straight at him, as no other man on Earth would be worth her while.

Raising his glass towards the screen, he declared, "Soon we will meet again. I can hardly wait."

He knew where she was staying in New York, thanks to that interview, and there were several ways he could get to her. Never had a drink tasted sweeter as he made his plans.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** My muse decided to add to this, thanks to a post by **thegingergoddess** on tumblr.

* * *

 **Part 3**

.

It took Kilgrave hardly any time at all to wade through the continuing snowfall to locate the correct hotel, impress upon the receptionist that he had to find Donna Noble, or be personally escorted to the lifts. In minutes he was in the right place, headed towards her lair. Once he manoeuvred an errant obstacle out of his way, of course.

With a flick of his wrist, the annoying hotel room service worker with the loaded food trolley was soon dismissed into who cared where. All that Kilgrave worried about was getting to the last room in the corridor on the top floor.

But when he reached the door he had imagined walking through so many times, he was surprised to find it open. Really? Not wide open, but slightly ajar, as if he was supposed to slip in through the doorway and into her arms.

Not that he wanted that to happen. Much.

He stood on the threshold and inhaled sharply. The waft of perfume in the air was intoxicating. Only a powerful woman would wear a scent like that. It made his mouth water with the prospect of taking her; making her his latest puppet.

Two steps into the room and along the carpet towards the window, he spotted her. She was sitting with her back to him, on a large white leather sofa. Her ginger hair was in stark contrast to the creamy tones of the leather; setting it off beautifully.

Before he could even open his mouth to utter a word, she lifted up a hand in greeting, without looking behind. "Hello Kevin. You finally made it here."

It wouldn't do to show his surprise. It would rather spoil the effect. "Hello Donna. Nice of you to invite me."

By this point he had made it to the end of the sofa and could look down on her. His observations took in her cream and white outfit. It flowed over her body, both exhibiting and hiding her obvious curves. He was able to assess every part of her; and by all accounts, she was evaluating his body too. That brought a slow grin to his face.

"'Invite' is rather a strong word for it," she remarked, turning her stern gaze onto him. "I just didn't want anyone being unnecessarily punished in your quest to get here." She then pointed a finger at his face. "You will go back and apologise to that poor waiter before you go home!"

He merely shrugged. "Why?"

That got her up and onto her feet, to glare at him at close quarters. A couple more inches taller and she would have managed to do so at his direct eye level.

"You've gone to a great deal of trouble to seek me out," she informed him. "Oh, I know all about your creepy tentacles trying to reach out and grasp all my computer files. Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I may have looked," he admitted.

"No, other people looked," she contradicted. "YOU acted like some toddler having a tantrum after they'd thrown their rattle out of the pram."

Stunned, he gawped at her. How was she resisting him? His mind had sauntered towards hers at first. Then he had hit harder, prodding with determination. And now he was bombarding her mind continuously, willing her to throw herself into his arms and beg him to devour her body. But she was merely standing there like some betrayed wife. Perhaps he needed to be in physical contact to gain control?

"Donna," he began, "you seem to have the wrong impression of me."

"You're going with that line? Really?!" she questioned in disbelief. "Okay, let's pretend you are a normal bloke who has set his sights on me for some reason and is here to court me. I assume that is the scenario you are going for. Or did I get that wrong too?"

"I am far from normal," he grouched, scrunching his face up in disgust. "Normal people are so boring!"

"Shame you don't treat them like a normal person would," she commented. "Acting like a torturer all the time is a bit of a mood killer if you were aiming for a romantic angle."

This couldn't be going so wrong, he fretted. Control of the situation _had_ to be regained. So he set himself down onto the nearest seat, sat back, and smirked at her. "I only did those things to get closer to you."

"And I'm a Dutchman," she scoffed. Taking a deep breath, she sat down as far away from him as she could manage. "You're a clever person, Kevin. So am I."

"Kilgrave," he corrected her.

"Sorry," she deliberately drawled. "Zebediah Kilgrave. Weird sort of name for a Mancunian." He startled at her reveal. "I presume your former friends in Manchester have no idea Kevin Thompson was so bored of them that he had to reinvent himself as the missing Teletubbie."

Seething, he muttered through gritted teeth, "I left them all behind. And I am no Teletubbie."

"True," she agreed. "You're nowhere near cuddly enough. Although the purple sort of works if you wanted to join their gang." Waves of psychic energy from him grew stronger, battling her heavily armoured defences. This would need a completely different tactic; one to play to his vanity. She then leaned towards him to purr, "Tell me, Kevin Kilgrave, what do you find so fascinating about me? I'd love to know why you are here."

"You are different, Donna."

"That old chestnut? Good grief," she sighed in disappointment. "Your chat up game is seriously behind the times."

He shrugged his shoulders, eager to know what _could_ work. "What would you have me say instead?"

Ah, he didn't even know she had gained a foothold in him. So she batted her eyelashes, pretending to be coy. "Let's just say," she quietly worded, pressing her mouth to his ear, "that you intrigue me, and I want to know more."

His eyes turned dark. "I want more too," he huskily added.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** from here on the rating goes up. Sorry.

* * *

 **Part 4**

.

Oooh, she had him right where she wanted him. If she wasn't careful, she'd get to like this sort of power over him. For a start, his pheromones tasted wonderful on her palate. But she had reminded herself that he was a tyrannical rapist and torturer. There wasn't a compassionate bone left in his body; even if it was tempting to give in and have a little fun with it.

At least she could console herself that, while he was focussed on her, he wasn't out there destroying somebody else's life. Which brought a smile to her lips. Just think, she could do whatever she liked to him and feel practically guilt-free.

"What are you prepared to do to get your 'more', Kevin?" she asked in sultry tones, keeping her mouth enticingly millimetres away from his.

She even moved in front of him as though she might offer a blow job at any second. That should keep him on his toes, and his libido as a restraining leash.

Every nerve in him wanted to shag her senseless. And he followed in her wake, yearning to touch her skin. "Tell me what you want, and I shall get some pleb to bring it," he readily promised.

"No," she firmly declined, deliberately ghosting her lips over his jawline. "No, I'm not interested in somebody else fawning over you and your whims. I'm talking about you personally. Are you willing to show me what you're made of?"

He was waiting to see what else she was curious about, because she'd planted herself onto his lap, almost straddling his hips; offering all sorts of delights. And yet this wasn't a dead cert like it normally was when he was this close to a woman. This particular one could easily end it all at any second, and that thought thrilled him with its uncertainty.

But he was confused when she scowled at him.

"What's the matter with you? Forgotten how to use your hands?" Donna griped. "I'm not doing everything."

Startled, Kilgrave raised his hands and immediately placed them on her breasts.

She in turned whacked his hands off her body. "Oi! Real person here, not some Barbie doll. Don't you know how to touch properly anymore? You've killed the mood."

To his surprise, she plunged her hands into his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp, ending up by placing her fingers against his temple. It was the touch of her mind against his that caused his eyes to roll back in his head. There had never been any sensation like it in his life. "Fuck!" he cried out in ecstasy.

"That's it," she sing-songed as he writhed beneath her body. "Come for me. Now isn't that better?" she crooned, into his ear.

She'd hidden her contempt at how easy he was to bring to this blissful plateau; but she needed him to want to return to her. The only way to maintain control of him was to keep him keen.

All he was aware of was her intoxicating presence. What wouldn't he do to repeat that experience in the future? "Oh, Donna," he gasped.

"Good. That's just what I wanted to hear," she continued to sweetly say in his ear. "Now, I shall know if you have been a naughty boy until we meet again. Can you do that for me? Can you be good? I shall reward you with pleasure if you are."

"I'll be good," he eagerly vowed.

To make sure he would be, she planted the memory of his orgasm firmly in his mind to appear whenever he carried out a good deed. "I think you might be," she allowed, and sunk her mouth down to capture his lips.

He groaned loudly, wanting it to continue when she released her hold. "Please," he begged.

"I have other things to attend to, so you have to go," she ordered him, knowing he would not consider disobeying yet. "Meet me here tomorrow; same time. Can you do that?" He nodded enthusiastically. "I have a little Christmas surprise planned, just for you so bring fresh underwear."

"Of course," he agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

.

Kilgrave couldn't wait. He didn't know how she did it, and he didn't care. All he wanted to do was bask in the sexual glory of their encounter again and again.

It didn't occur to him exactly what spell Donna had woven over him until he reached the hotel lobby and thanked the receptionist for providing the hotel phone number. The apology he'd given the trolley dolly had merely been a coincidence, he'd thought. But uttering the words to the receptionist had caused a delicious frisson to sweep through his body, and he'd smiled with delight.

How often could he get away with gaining that feeling? To find out, he'd experimented all the way home to the latest fancy abode he'd commandeered. In every single instance, he had shuddered throughout his body in almost the best way imaginable. The ultimate way would be once he breached her battlements and invaded her body completely, taking his fill.

Ah yes, he could luxuriate in planning that moment as he lay back on his pillow and fantasised about any good deed at all. What a witch she was! And he loved her for it.

Unable to wait, he picked up his phone and dialled the number for the hotel suite. "Hello Donna," he purred when she answered. "Did I catch you in bed?"

"Kevin. How lovely to hear from you," she replied, keeping her voice as even as possible. "Tell me, have you been a good boy so far?"

"Deliciously so," he admitted. "Would you like to feel how much with me?"

Good, it was working, just as she planned. "Are you capable of making me do that?" she pondered.

"If not, I suggest you put your mobile inside your knickers and I'll give you a long call," he proposed. "But you needn't do that, not if I have my way."

She could feel his mind nudging hers; daring her to disobey his ruling. Well sod that for a game of soldiers! There was no way she'd submit to his whims. It would be entirely the other way around. "Cup yourself," she ordered. "Go on, place your hand where you want me. That's it. Now say something nice about me."

"I want you."

"No, that's not what I meant," she chastised. "Try a compliment. I shall know if you are doing it right."

"Your hair…," he stammered as the thought began to take shape on his tongue and in his mind. "It's…" He gave out a low moan. "…liquid nectar," he tried to continue, but the sensation was too much for a second. "Oh Donna," he gasped. "I want your lips, your gorgeous lips. Argh… Oh yes. Yes."

She held the receiver away from her ear as his panted breaths grew louder. It was easy to guess when he lost the thought because his breathing rate altered until he got things back on track. "Tell me, Kevin. Sing for me," she encouraged.

An ear-splitting cry broke through the silence of the room she was in, telling her all too clearly how much he liked his good thoughts.

"That was…," he spluttered, fighting for air.

"And there's more where that came from," she crooned. "Just come to me tomorrow night. Make sure you are all clean for me."

His heart was still going like the clappers, but he had to know how she did this to him; what her secret was. "How…?" he started to ask.

But she instantly cut his question off. "Until tomorrow. Think of me kindly, Kevin." And ended the call by blowing a kiss in his direction. She then regarded her hand holding the telephone receiver in place. "I think I preferred it when we blew buildings up. Oh well. Can't be helped. You have to fight fire with fire."

* * *

The following evening, she made sure she had everything to hand that she could possibly need. A bottle of champagne was cooling in the refrigerator, along with some caviar to nibble on while the rest of the room was comfortable warm, ready to be heated up.

His knock at the door was early by a good twenty minutes or so, but she had anticipated that. Kilgrave was not used to deferred gratification, after all. "A little impatient, are we?" she teased as she opened the door.

He was stood there in his finest suit; carefully coiffured and smelling exotic. "For you always," he purred.

Looking down, she could easily see he was always ready, that was sure. "So I see," she mewed. "And all going to waste. Come in."

She stepped aside to let him enter the hotel suite, glad to see he was practically drooling already with desire. Just how she wanted him.

Taking in the long white silk sleeveless dress she wore, that more than hinted at pastures green, his eyes lingered on the deep neckline. "You look beautiful tonight," he complimented, getting the expected zing through his veins. "Where do you want me?"

"Let's start on the settee, shall we?" she invited. Swaying her hips in an exaggerated manner, she sashayed across the room so that he could get a good view of what she was offering. Seating herself down on the soft leather, she patted the cushion beside her. "Come. Sit by me and we'll begin with nibbles."

"Nibbles?" he queried, adjusting the fall of his trousers so that he could sit in comfort rather than accidentally strangle himself. Never had he been so ready for whatever a woman offered. "Ah, caviar, my favourite," he acknowledged with pleasure.

She leaned forward to pick up the plate from a nearby low table, giving him a wonderful view of her cleavage as she did so. It was all part of the torment, and he was a willing participant. "Are you hungry?" she wondered, placing a treat at his mouth. "Open up, there's a good boy." He obeyed, so she gently pushed the caviar-laden cracker passed his lips. "You'll need your strength for what I have in mind for you."

"Strength?" he questioned, chewing on the delight with appreciation.

"I have plans to keep you occupied for quite a while. I hope you don't mind?" she breathily asked.

"What about you?" he wondered as she placed another treat on his lips.

In answer, she looked meaningfully down at his lap. "I shall eat in a moment. Oops!" She deliberately smeared her fingertip across her bare skin, just above her left breast; leaving the faintest trace. "I've managed to get some on me."

"Do you want me to help with that?" he offered.

Thrusting her chest towards him, she invited, "Help yourself."

This was exactly what he had been hoping for; a chance to get his mouth on her body, in any capacity. He was certain he could persuade her to go much further once he'd done that.

She watched in fascination as he lowered his face, wrapping his arms around her waist so that he could easily lick the tiny morsel from her freckled skin. His tongue darted out to lick an imaginary speck away.

When he nuzzled her flesh, she announced, "I have some champagne waiting in the fridge. Do you want some?"

Dazzled, he lifted his head to accept the offered alcohol. It might be fun to suck champagne from her skin as well. Otherwise, why has she mentioned it at that point? Unless she planned to use the champagne on his body instead…

Every thought he had was clearly broadcast into her mind. Yes, go on thinking that, she mentally encouraged him. "Since these things can be a _little_ finite," she pondered, glancing her hand across him, "it's best we deal with me first and then work our way up to you. Is that oaky… okay?"

His grin told her he loved the verbal slip up. She thought he was built like a tree, eh? Very flattering. "I'm game if you are."

"The game is on," she replied, smiling demurely at him. "Do you want to pop the cork, or shall I?"

There was no doubt about it. He was _loving_ this! "Leave it to me."

* * *

 **A/N:** the next part will also need heavily edited.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** to comply with the rules here, I have tried to heavily edit this part. But should you still want to read the original, you'll find it on AO3.

* * *

 **Part 6**

.

"Have you ever completely given yourself to a woman, Kevin?" Donna queried as she accepted her glass of champagne.

He shook his head. "No. It's normally the other way around."

"I hear they don't tend to have an option in the matter," she considered, "whereas I think you should." Not wanting to damper his mood too much, she added, "I'm sure I can think of something. Now what can I do to make you desperate? I know."

With that, she tipped the edge of her champagne flute and let the expensive wine drip onto her silk dresst; immediately exposing her flesh.

"Donna," he gasped out in delight. "You aren't wearing a bra."

"So I'm not," she agreed in seductive tones. "It's as if I've been waiting for you to come along. Whatever am I to do? Do you know anyone who is willing to lick champagne from my bare chest? It needs lots and lots of attention."

"Oh yes," he groaned.

"That's it," she encouraged when he dipped forward, and thrust his hand inside her dress to shove it aside. "Does it need more champagne?" In his eagerness, he pulled the silk dress off her shoulders to gain better access. "Go on. Kevin. Show me what you can do."

He pulled her lower body against him, grinding his hips to arouse her further. This was new, but not unwelcome. He'd seen it done in movies, after all, and felt sure he could re-enact the right moves. So when she pushed against him, he knew he was getting something right.

Wanting more, he moved his mouth to suckle her flesh, ignoring the champagne that soaked his shirt in the process. He could always get another shirt, but this particular choice piece of meat would not wait for niceties.

With a bit more wriggling, he had the whole dress off and she was down to her lacy knickers, rubbing herself against him while he kissed his way down her stomach. There was nothing he wanted more than to take those undies off; so he did, using his teeth and fervent fingers.

"Am I the only one getting naked here?" Donna grouched, bringing him out of his lust-driven haze.

"Help yourself," he offered. "I want to see you take charge."

"Careful what you wish for, Kevin," she saucily warned, and immediately tackled extracting him from his tie.

Oh, she knew what she was doing to him as she slowly undid his buttons before wrenching his clothes off his body. Nibbling on his exposed flesh, she left his trousers and underpants until last, squeezing out every last inch of anticipation as she did so.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked in an extremely strained voice. He was sure he'd combust and die long before she had her lips where he wanted them.

"Tetchy," she noted. "And you didn't drink all your champagne. We can't have it going to waste"

"What?"

But she was already tilting the lip of the glass over him.

"I love champagne," she breathily declared and, using a well-placed hand on his chest, pushed him backwards so that she could reach him easily with her tongue. "I love licking things too. Never used to. Odd, but different."

"Yes. Oh god, yes," he moaned in delight as her warm breath moved along his smooth skin. "Right there."

Unfortunately, she didn't continue, but sat back and contemplated him spread out on the settee. " I think we need to take this somewhere comfortable. Somewhere I can really put you to good use."

"Okay." He let her lead him to the vast bed; and obeyed when she indicated that he got on it with his head up near the headboard. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Perfect," she trilled in satisfaction. "But first, there is something I must do." He watched with interest when she switched on two small devices that sat either side of the bed and looked like glorified alarm clocks. "Sound mufflers," she explained, intriguing him further.

Would she pull out a gag, he wondered. Instead, he saw her climb gradually up his body, continuing until she was straddling his hips. "I thought you were still dealing with me," he commented.

"Give me just a minute," she retorted, and sought out an item beneath the bedclothes near the pillow. "Patience, my dear."

"What!" he exclaimed in shock as handcuffs were suddenly used to clip him in place. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Letting you give yourself to me completely."

"You'd better be joking," he grumbled and shrieked as pain zapped through his groin.

"Now listen here, Sunshine!" She waved a threatening finger in his face. "All it takes is one phone call and I'll have you dumped on the far side of the Moon, or anywhere else that takes my fancy. Have you got that?"

"That's merely words…"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's called having a decent backup plan."

"Who are you going to call?" he queried. "None of the superheroes I've met have been able to resist my powers."

"Who said he's a superhero, huh?" She allowed herself to boast, "Some have called him a god. But he's more than that."

Jealousy raged in him. He _knew_ there had to be someone else she pined for. "Then tell me who he is!" Kilgrave griped.

"Say 'please'."

"Please!"

"My dazzling ex-husband. Well, when I say that, he's sort of my ex-husband," she babbled. "But don't let him know I said that. It's complicated," she tacked on.

"You're doing this to get back at some a*hole of an ex-husband?!" He could not believe this was happening.

"No," she forcefully denied, and dug her nails into his scalp, bringing his head closer. "I don't need to impress any man; especially you. But I do need to contain you."

Shuddering and squirming with all his might, he fought her mental attack; sending out appeals for anyone close by to come and recue him. But it didn't work, and her mind blazed within his.

 _Thought you could get away with it for ever, did you? Well, I don't think so_ , he felt the words blast through him as something crushed part of his synapses. _If I left you brain dead I'd still be doing someone a favour. This cycle of abuse has to stop. Now_.

"Donna, please," he begged.

"Give it up or I'll take it from you," she ordered.

"No!"

"So be it," she declared, and pressed in harder.

Words choked in his throat as the onslaught continued. Unable to resist, he tried his last card. "I loved you."

"That's what made it easier," she bitterly admitted, "and I am so sorry. In any other circumstances, I would have loved you too." Kissing his cheek, she murmured, "Goodbye, Kevin."

Then his world switched off.

* * *

When he eventually came to, he was lying naked in an unfamiliar bed in an unknown bedroom.

Climbing cautiously out, he tested his balance, and made for the doorway. "Hello! Is anyone there?"

There was no answer, but he correctly guessed it was a hotel room. No idea whose, or where. Propped on the coffee table was a note, a wallet, and folded clothing that he hoped was his. The wallet contained a photo ID card that proclaimed it to belong to a Kevin Thompson. A quick glance in the large mirror on the wall soon confirmed that was him, so he opened the note.

Within it was a plane ticket to London Airport, and a handwritten message that said:

 ** _Hello Kevin,_**

 ** _Thank you for visiting me here in New York and giving me an unforgettable night. We both wanted a fresh start, and here is yours. The ticket is for tonight, so you have plenty of time. At the other end there will be someone to meet you with details of your new job._**

 ** _Take care, my love, and perhaps I'll see you in London one day._**

 ** _D xx_**

Still completely baffled as to who he was or what had happened, Kilgrave got dressed and considered how he would make his way home; feeling surprisingly calm and hopeful.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

.

In any other circumstance, Kevin would have been utterly terrified of his situation. He had no idea where he was, what he'd been doing, who the mysterious "D" was, or what had happened to his adult life. Everything had been swept away. And yet he was perfectly at peace with himself despite all the questions that bombarded his mind. Something was waiting for him; he could feel it. As long as he made it to the airport and boarded that plane, everything would be fine. More than fine.

The terrified looks some people threw him when he left the hotel should have scared him, but a voice within his head told him to hold on tight because further help was coming. If he could keep his cool, the rewards would be astronomical.

Image his joy when, checking in at the airport, he found that he was escorted straight to the VIP lounge. There'd been no need for passport checks or any of that nonsense. It had all been taken care of, they said so he'd gone with the flow. He had no idea if he'd ever flown before, but he must have done to get to New York in the first place. Unless he had suddenly found the ability to walk on water, and that miracle hadn't happened, he was sure of it.

So he'd sat back in the First Class lounge, enjoying the delights on offer, perusing his surroundings when he'd spotted a slightly familiar head of ginger hair. Perhaps he had seen her on television at some point? He would never know, but at least it didn't terrify him that he didn't have the answer. He had watched her progress through the concourse and been impressed. She wasn't conventionally beautiful but there was something about her, about her whole confident demeanour, that caught his interest. Something in the sway of her hips spoke to him on a primal level, and he almost growled his arousal. A pleasurable thrill had pulsed through his body. Fortunately, he managed to hold in the urge to grunt his appreciation and was rewarded with a smile in his direction as she walked by.

His surprise went up a notch to sheer delight when he found himself seated next to her on the plane. It would make the long journey so much more pleasurable if he was able to gaze at her as he grabbed a mid-flight nap. Hopefully she would not be privy to how those dreams would play out. When she smiled at him again as she took her seat, he risked greeting her with, "Hello."

She returned the greeting, but the seating arrangements in First Class didn't allow for any further conversation. Never mind. He could use his solitude to feed his imagination as he caught the odd glimpse of her and allow the delicious wave of completion that overtook him to send him to sleep.

It wasn't until they alighted from the plane that he got a proper chance to speak with her. Something had been niggling at him throughout the flight; he was sure he ought to know who she was, on a personal level, but the information never appeared in his head. Merely several daydreams about an encounter. A very satisfying sexual encounter.

"I'm sorry that this must sound really crass, but do I know you from somewhere?" he finally got the chance to ask as they walked along the boarding corridor. "You probably get that all the time," he hastily tacked on, blushing when she didn't immediately answer.

She'd smirked then, breaking his downward spiral into awkwardness. "I probably remind you of someone, just like you made me think of my ex-husband when I first saw you. The similarity is remarkable."

"Hopefully you won't hold it against me," he'd blustered, both pleased he possessed looks to attract her and appalled it would now be used against him. To hold her attention, he added, "I'm afraid I wouldn't know if I had met you or not since I've suffered a head injury of some sort and seem to have lost all my memories."

"All of them?" She gazed at him with deep concern. "You don't seem very angry about it."

"Strangely enough, I'm not," he noted with surprise. "You'd think I would be, but I feel as if I've been given a whole new chance to live a normal life."

"That's really good to hear, Mr... Erm?"

"Thompson," he supplied. "Kevin Thompson."

"Pleasure to meet you. I run a charitable trust, Mr Thompson that could benefit from a positive attitude like yours. Why don't you contact me once you've seen your family, to arrange a mutually beneficial meeting?" She stuck out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Donna Noble."

"How do you do, Donna. Please call me Kevin."

Everything she could have wished for was confirmed in that handshake. Most of all, she would not need to call upon the services of the Doctor to complete this little matter, despite the temptation to do so; even if it was to boast.

"Tell me, where are you staying while you are here?" she asked, as though she were seeking contact details.

"I haven't the faintest idea," he admitted, shocked to find that didn't disturb him in the slightest. Perhaps he had long journeyed with such an attitude, sleeping wherever the day took him. "Can you recommend somewhere?"

"Don't you have family waiting for you?" she wondered. "A wife or parents somewhere?"

"Not that I know of," he honestly answered. "There's no one left who cares so I'm going where the wind blows me."

"Oh, I'm sure we can deal with that," she confidently replied. "Follow me, Kevin."

He happily complied; and would do so till the end of the Earth.


End file.
